


The Way To A Man's Heart (And All That Jazz)

by leashy_bebes



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-03
Updated: 2012-02-03
Packaged: 2017-10-30 13:20:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/332170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leashy_bebes/pseuds/leashy_bebes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur learns that sometimes blind dates – even unexpected, unwanted ones with Merlin's friends – work out. Eventually. (Written for gwaine_quest for the prompt of 'modern AU, Gwaine is a chef and Arthur berates his cooking')</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Way To A Man's Heart (And All That Jazz)

Arthur looked around the pub quickly, trying to gauge the best way out that wouldn't involve vaulting over a table.

When he'd agreed to meet Merlin and Freya for a drink after work, there had been no mention of the friend Arthur absolutely _had_ to meet. There'd been even _less_ indication that Merlin and Freya were planning to skip off and leave Arthur alone with said friend. Blind dates were bad enough, but blind dates with a friend of Merlin's usually ended in awkward silences (Edwin), mind-numbing boredom (Myror) or mild fright (Cedric).

Arthur started winding himself up into an almighty snit as soon as they sprung it on him, and tried to pretend he hadn't noticed Merlin timing Arthur's rant on his phone.

" – and I'm not interested in yet another one of your _weird_ friends, Merlin," Arthur finished, adding, "No offence, Freya."

"Oh, none taken," she said, picking the lemon slice out of her vodka and tonic and neatly eating the flesh.

"Gwaine's great," Merlin insisted. "He's hot!"

"Forgive me if I don't trust your heterosexual judgement."

"I am an aesthete," Merlin said primly.

"You are an arsehole," Arthur grumbled. "And look, okay, I know this is hard for you to comprehend but just because I like cock and your mysterious friend likes cock, that is _no guarantee_ that we'll like _each other's_ – "

"Evening," a voice said from behind Arthur. "And who's this charming gentleman?"

"Your date for the evening," Freya said, standing and shrugging into her jacket before Arthur had even had a chance to turn around and see who was behind him.

"My... As far as I knew I was here for a couple of drinks with my friend and his better half," Gwaine said. (And, alright, Arthur had to give Merlin credit where it was due, Gwaine was bloody _gorgeous_ , and absolutely Arthur's type.)

"At least I'm not the only one getting ambushed," Arthur huffed.

"It's not an ambush," Merlin said sniffily, as though Arthur was mad to have any objections to being set up on a stealth-date.

"Feels a bit like an ambush, mate," Gwaine said, apparently unbothered enough to sit down in the chair next to Arthur's.

Arthur tried very hard to focus on glowering at Merlin, rather than on the already discernible heat he could feel from Gwaine's body, the soft scent of his leather jacket, the way his over-long hair curled against his strong jaw. _Nope_ , Arthur reminded himself. _Still angry_.

"I told you about him, remember," Merlin told Arthur encouragingly. "The guy who saved me from falling down the escalators on the tube?"

Arthur blinked. "That was _three days ago._ You've – oh, this just gets better," he snapped. "You set me up with someone you barely even _know_? He could be a bloody axe-murderer." 

"Well," said Gwaine, "I am good with knives."

Arthur 's jaw dropped. "See? _See?_ Who even _says_ that? _Axe-murderer._ "

"I'm a – " Gwaine started and Arthur waved a hand sharply to cut him off.

"No. Shut up. Don't care. _Merlin_ – "

"We're going to be late for the film, Merlin," Freya said.

Merlin glanced at his watch. "Absolutely right, sweetheart. Have fun, chaps! We stuck a twenty behind the bar, so, you know – have a couple on us. Night!"

And then he and Freya were gone, clutching each other's hands and whispering together the way they had from pretty much the second they met. Arthur stared helplessly after them for a moment before he turned to Gwaine who was watching him with an amused expression. ( _Good with knives_ , shit, he might _actually_ be an axe-murderer. That, or just a bit beyond Arthur's usual kinkiness threshold. Either way, he was gorgeous.)

"Well," Gwaine said, spinning a beer mat on its corner and giving Arthur a bright smile. "Ambush or not, seems a shame to let twenty quid worth of beer go to waste."

Arthur shook his head, some ingrained politeness making him say, "Look, it's not personal. But I think I'm going to just leave. You spend that twenty."

Before he could go anywhere, Gwaine caught hold of his wrist and pinned Arthur in place with an intensely focused look. (Fuck, Arthur was _screwed_. Dark, handsome, and apparently a master of the unintentionally sultry stare.)

"Look," Gwaine said, his thumb shifting ever so slightly against Arthur's pulse. "Blind date. Nightmare. Potential serial killers at every turn. I get that. But hey. Whatever they think's wrong with you that you can't organise your own love-life, they obviously think I have the same defect."

"That's – you're really charming," Arthur said.

Gwaine shot Arthur a truly irresistible smile. "So I've been told," he said. "Listen, how's this? We pretend the weird guy I dragged up an escalator the other day isn't coincidentally your best mate. We bumped into each other, we'll have a couple of drinks because I have a bit of a thing for blonds and it's quiet in here tonight, and then we'll go our merry and separate ways."

"Are you already drunk?" Arthur asked, allowing himself to settle back into his seat.

Gwaine laughed. "Nah, high on life, that's my default setting."

Arthur groaned, but he couldn't help being a little charmed by Gwaine's quick tongue, not to mention the way the smile that accompanied it made the corners of his eyes crinkle in a way that had Arthur sorely tempted to reach out and trace the lines with his fingertip. As time went on, Arthur found he was enjoying the evening in spite of himself. He even liked Gwaine's arsenal of half-heartedly delivered cheesy come-ons, and his gently teasing observations about the barman's repeated failed attempts to hit on the girls who order drinks.

"There's two quid and a bit of change left out of Merlin's money," Gwaine said after it was his turn to go to the bar. "Game of pool and a pack of crisps?"

"Sounds good," Arthur nodded. "Fair warning though, I am _brilliant_ at pool. Prepare to have your arse handed to you."

"You're so modest!" Gwaine exclaimed, feigning shock. "I'll stand us another round. Pool without beer is like anti-pasto without olives."

"I'll take your word for it," Arthur said, amused, letting Gwaine head for the bar while he moved towards the pool table. They drank most of their pints while they were waiting for the current players to leave, so Arthur went back for refills. 

He came back to find Gwaine neatly racking up the balls. Arthur set the drinks down as Gwaine offered Arthur his choice of cues.

"You shouldn't be so cocky, by the way," he said, waggling his fingers while Arthur chalked the cue he'd picked. "These hands are my living, you know. I'm good."

"Oh, of course. Professional masseur, extras extra, is that right?"

Gwaine huffed fake offence and said, "No, I'm a hand-model. Isn't it obvious?" Then, changing the subject so quickly Arthur felt in danger of whiplash, he asked, "Toss a coin to break?"

"Yeah, alright."

In the end, they stayed in the bar almost until closing time, playing pool and letting the conversation meander around everything from football, to the latest movies they'd seen, to creatively clumsy ways Merlin had managed to injure himself over the years Arthur had known him. Eventually, after Arthur had won three out of five games by the skin of his teeth, Gwaine glanced at his watch.

"I better head off. There's supposedly a bus due soon."

"Alright," Arthur said. "I need to get the tube, anyway."

"Cool." Moving quickly, Gwaine caught hold of Arthur's hand, not quite shaking it but not quite holding it either. "Listen, thanks for tonight, yeah? For a stealth blind date that never was, it was pretty enjoyable."

"Agreed," Arthur grinned.

Outside, Arthur shivered at the sudden drop in temperature and buttoned his coat. Gwaine stood, apparently waiting, his hands tucked into his pockets.

"Have a good week, Arthur," Gwaine offered.

"You too. And hey, thanks for not letting Merlin bust his head open on the Northern Line. Blind dates and appalling taste in music aside, he's a good guy."

"Regular knight in shining armour, that's me," Gwaine said modestly. 

"So that's what you do for a living!"

"Yup. And that's my bus. See you, Arthur."

"Bye."

Arthur watched as Gwaine dashed across the road and onto the bus just before it pulled away. The walk to the tube was only a short one, and Arthur passed it thinking about the evening. Although it never really felt like a date, it was undoubtedly more fun than most of the _actual_ dates he'd been set up on in the past. And Gwaine was gorgeous, there was no denying that. It was good. A nice, low-pressure night.

It was almost a shame, really. If it had been an unmitigated disaster, at least he'd have been able to lay down the law to Merlin about setting him up with weirdos he meets on the underground. Arthur can't help wondering how differently the night would have gone if he hadn't made it clear from the outset that it wasn't a date. It wasn't that Arthur was looking – certainly not for a relationship, and no more than usual for a shag. It was just – hell, Gwaine was fit and aware of it in a way that trod the line between confident and cocky. And that was an attitude that Arthur had always had a bit of a weak spot for.

**

They met again at a party Leon was throwing to celebrate the end of term and the vanquishing of the associated mountain of marking. Gwaine had apparently endeared himself to the rest of the gang by matching Percy shot for shot on a night out Arthur had missed due to work commitments. In the days running up the party, Merlin felt the need to inform Arthur no less than _three times_ that Gwaine would be there.

By the time Arthur arrived, the party was already in full swing, the music loud, possibly more suited to some of Leon's sixth-form students than to a bunch of supposedly respectable adults. The front door was unlocked so Arthur let himself in. He promptly found himself ambushed just inside by Percy and Leon who were already three sheets to the wind. They rapidly marched Arthur through to the kitchen where they practically poured a double shot of vodka down his throat before slapping him on the back and shoving him into the living room.

Sometimes it was as though nothing had changed since university, Arthur thought with a grin. Gwen cornered him first. She asked about Morgana (Arthur pulled a face), work (Arthur shrugged and dissembled a bit) and whether Arthur thought Leon's emotional development had been permanently stunted by prolonged contact with fifteen year old shitheads (very probably). Arthur blamed Merlin's persistent updates for the way he found himself looking around every time the door opened, half wondering whether each new guest would be Gwaine. Before he and Gwen had finished talking, Merlin and Freya arrived, along with a few other people, crowding the place more fully. 

A little while later, a familiar voice asked, "Determined, isn't he, your mate?"

"Hi, Gwaine," Arthur said as he turned.

"Young Merlin was very insistent I come and say hello," Gwaine informed him. "One might even say adamant."

Arthur laughed and looked over at where Merlin was giving them a painfully enthusiastic thumbs up. "God help us. He's your mate too, now," he pointed out.

"Wonderful. So. Hello, Arthur."

"Hello, Gwaine."

"Want to fuck with Merlin a bit?" Gwaine offered.

"A man after my own heart. Follow my lead," Arthur told him.

Making sure to pass Merlin, and also to cast several twitchy glances back over his shoulder, Arthur led Gwaine out of the open plan living room and towards the stairs. Behind him, he heard Gwaine's warm, low laugh.

"Oh, you're a horrible person," Gwaine teased. "I like it."

Arthur looked back to grin at him and tipped his head towards the first door he saw. Leon's small back room afforded them few distractions and for the first time Arthur thought that maybe this wasn't the best plan in the world. He was starting to realise that Gwaine was one of those people whose easy smiles created a sense of immediacy. Arthur felt like Gwaine was standing right at his shoulder even when he was on the other side of the room, examining the photos on the walls.

It wasn't long before Arthur heard footsteps stop on the other side of the door and he waved a hand to get Gwaine's attention. Arthur held a finger up to his lips and mouthed _one...two..._ And on three, he yanked the door open . Merlin all but fell through and shot Arthur a dirty look, apparently unabashed.

"Bastard," he muttered.

Arthur dug his knuckles into the top of Merlin's scalp and called him a nosy parker. Gwaine was still chuckling as the three of them went back to the party and Arthur ignored the warm tickle somewhere in his stomach at that soft laughter, in favour of smugly thinking that hopefully Merlin would learn his bloody lesson.

Of course, there was no such luck. Wherever Arthur went, whoever he spoke to, he was constantly aware of Merlin giving him expectant looks. After an hour or so, Merlin wasn't the only one. When the third person asked Arthur how well he knew Gwaine, Arthur's patience – admittedly never really extensive – finally ran out. Excusing himself, he looked around the living room and located Merlin and Freya, quickly making a beeline for them.

"Hi, Freya. Let me borrow this idiot," Arthur said with a bright smile, curling his hand around Merlin's upper arm and pulling him away towards the stairs. He gave Merlin a little shake and demanded, " _Why_ are you so bloody insistent about this?"

"Because!" Merlin said, grinning hugely.

"Not an answer, you lush!"

"Because he's not really a feckless hippie, and you're not really an ice-man."

Arthur was utterly lost now. "God. What?"

"And you won't let each other pretend to be! It's brilliant. Perfect! I'm a genius. You can babysit for me and Freya!"

Gwen, passing by, said, twice as loud and three times as shrill as usual, "He can _what_?!" 

Elyan and Sophia walked past just in time to hear Gwen asking, "Freya's _pregnant_?"

Merlin's jaw dropped. "What?!"

Arthur slapped his hand to his forehead and moaned. "Oh, great. This is going to be wonderful."

After the confusion was cleared up and the music started again, Arthur found himself cornered once more by Gwaine. 

"So, I haven't been to many parties where a non-pregnancy gets announced," he said.

"You get used to it," Arthur lied.

Gwaine laughed and touched his fingers to the inside of Arthur's wrist for no real reason Arthur could ascertain. Whatever spark had been missing between them at the pub was present in spades now. Arthur felt almost giddy for a moment before Gwaine took his hand back and suggested, "Another drink?"

"Kitchen," Arthur nodded. "Lead the way. I know where Leon keeps everything that isn't cheap beer and cheaper vodka."

"Wonderful," Gwaine said.

However, before Arthur could boost himself up onto the worktop and root around in the very top cupboard, the kitchen door slammed shut behind them, accompanied by a tell-tale snort of laughter.

" _Merlin_ ," Arthur and Gwaine said within a breath of each other.

Arthur shouldered Gwaine aside and pounded on the door. "Let us out, you twat! This is not an episode of Dawson's Creek! _Merlin_! This is not how you do things!" In the necessary pause for breath, Arthur noticed Gwaine looking at him strangely. " _What_?"

"You're adorable," Gwaine said. "Even your _ironic_ pop culture references are out of date."

"Hey!"

"So do we wait it out? Would he be fooled by fake sex noises, or will only the real thing do?"

After a final petulant kick at the door, Arthur took a deep breath and tried not to think about _the real thing_ while in a confined space with Gwaine. 

"No," he said. "We're going to find the bottle of Tanqueray – probably behind the crisps – and go out the back door."

Gwaine pouted. "Spoilsport."

Arthur grinned. "Help me out," he said, rifling through Leon's startlingly extensive collection of Quavers. Together, they located the half-bottle of gin Leon had stashed away (selfish prick) and Arthur fumbled the spare key from the top of the doorframe. 

Leon's back garden wasn't much more than a square of patchy grass and the cool air felt shocking after the warm, loud inside of the house.

"Gimme that," Gwaine said, pulling the bottle from Arthur's hand and taking a swig. " _Whoo_. Yowch."

"Not a gin man?"

"Tastes like perfume," Gwaine sniffed, handing the bottle back to Arthur. 

Arthur scoffed. "Heathen. Right. Gate's over there."

"Locked," Gwaine announced, rattling the padlock.

"Bollocks. Up for a bit of climbing?"

Gwaine shot Arthur a look over his shoulder. He grabbed the top of the gate, pulled himself smoothly upward and in the blink of an eye, was perched on gatepost, looking down at Arthur challengingly.

"Need a hand?" he offered.

"Nah," Arthur said. "Take this, though." And he handed the bottle of gin up to Gwaine, heard him land neatly in the alley behind Leon's house a second later. His own scramble up the gate felt distinctly less dignified than Gwaine's had appeared. 

Gwaine was waiting when Arthur jumped down from the gate, and steadied his stumble with a warm hand wrapped around Arthur's upper arm. They caught each other's eye then, and quickly dissolved into laughter.

"God. Sorry," Arthur said. "This is fucking ridiculous, isn't it?"

"Little bit," Gwaine admitted. There was a metallic noise as he unscrewed the bottle cap from the gin again.

"Thought it tasted like perfume?"

"Expensive, alcoholic perfume," Gwaine amended after another drink, offering the bottle to Arthur. "You know, the ironic thing is that I've been kicking myself for not getting your number the other night."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah. But Merlin would be so smug, right? I mean, unbearable."

"Oh, definitely," Arthur said, and he would have been unable to miss the teasing smile on Gwaine's face even if his tone hadn't already given him away. "There'd be no living with him."

Gwaine nodded. "But – I mean, correct me if I'm wrong, but neither of us has to actually live with him."

"Well, that's true. You could always wait a few hours," Arthur offered. "He's usually a pretty docile drunk."

"I could do that," Gwaine said. "I could definitely do that."

"Well, unless you get a better offer in the meantime," Arthur said airily.

The joking tone suddenly gone, Gwaine said, "I really can't see that happening." Before Arthur could react, Gwaine clapped his hands together and said, "Right! How do we get back to this party, then?"

Arthur led them through the alley and back around to corner where they knocked on the front door until Gwen let them in, looking surprised.

"Don't even ask," Arthur muttered. 

They found Merlin outside the kitchen, one ear pressed up against the door, squinting in concentration.

"That is your best friend," Gwaine observed quietly.

"Don't judge me," Arthur said, and they shared a laugh.

Gwaine's smile went soft and he lowered his eyes like he was thinking secrets and said, "See ya."

"Yeah," Arthur said, and caught himself watching Gwaine turn back to the party. Shaking himself, he yelled at Merlin and grabbed him around the shoulders. Merlin gave a satisfyingly high-pitched shriek and looked utterly perplexed. He was saved from the fullness of Arthur's rant when Leon spotted the bottle in Arthur's hand and launched a rant of his very own.

The night wore on and Arthur became more and more aware of Gwaine, of the easy way he chatted with everyone even though Arthur was sure this was the first time Gwaine had met many of them. It was more than a little charming and after their conversation in the alley Arthur couldn't help a little flare of excitement when their eyes met or they ended up part of the same conversation.

As the party started winding down, Arthur headed for the loo, stopping en route to laboriously tie a sleeping Merlin's shoelaces together.

"You're mean," Freya told him.

"You're his girlfriend and you're not stopping me," Arthur pointed out. " _You're_ mean."

Freya just laughed and affectionately pushed Merlin's hair back from his eyes.

"Well, if he will pass out at a party," she said. "I suppose he deserves all he gets."

"Actually," Gwaine said, appearing behind Arthur. "I don't think he passed out. He informed me he was tired and needed a nap, made a beeline for the sofa, and here we are." He glanced at where Arthur was putting the finishing touches on a fiendish triple knot. "And what're you up to, hmm?"

"Demonstrating my maturity," Arthur said, tipping Gwaine a wink. Gwaine laughed and Arthur thought he could feel Gwaine's eyes on him as he jogged up the stairs to the loo.

When he came out again, he found Gwaine waiting at the top of the stairs, leaning against the railing with his arms folded. He was a picture of casual sexiness, long hair swept back from his face as though he'd just pushed his hand through it.

"So," he said as Arthur shut the door behind himself. "This is me. Asking for your number."

Gwaine pushed off the railing and moved towards Arthur, the low murmur of voices downstairs seeming to recede as he got closer. Arthur could feel the heat of him, smell the lingering traces of an earthy, mossy cologne. When Arthur licked his lips it was unconscious, but he couldn't miss the way Gwaine's eyes flicked towards the movement, the way his pupils dilated in the half-light of the hallway.

_Fuck coy_ , Arthur decided. Coy was for teenagers and people who weren't burning up with want for the person in front of them. He reached for Gwaine in the same instant as Gwaine moved forward and the resulting kiss was probably harder than either of them intended. Gwaine was a masterful kisser though, soft and then hard, a lingering give and take between them that was almost enough to make Arthur forget where they were.

Almost.

He turned his face away, pushed at Gwaine's chest. Over Gwaine's muffled rumble of protest Arthur offered, "My place is only ten minutes away in a cab."

Gwaine grinned. "Best news I've had all week."

"Oh, yeah? Quiet week, was it?"

"Nah. Really eventful. I won the lottery and everything."

Gwaine did look a little like he'd won something when Arthur laughed and closed what had somehow become a very tiny gap indeed to kiss him again.

"Come on," Arthur said, pushing at him gently before they could get carried away. "Let's get out of here."

There were only a few stragglers left downstairs and while Arthur waited for Gwaine to find his jacket, he grabbed Leon for a quick goodbye.

"Heading off, mate. Me and Gwaine are going to share a cab,"

Leon laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. "Share a cab, eh? So that's what the cool kids are calling it these days."

Arthur just shoved Leon in the side and shushed him when he heard Gwaine coming back. He waited a little impatiently as goodbyes were said – Gwaine seemed to have made quite the impression on everyone. After what felt like ages they were finally out of the door and on their way to catch a taxi from closer to the main road.

**

The cab ride passed in a blur, with Arthur constantly aware of Gwaine on the other side of the car.

"So I guess you've decided I'm not an axe-murderer," Gwaine said after a few minutes.

"Maybe you are," Arthur said. "Maybe I've just decided I'll be able to keep you distracted."

Gwaine laughed and bumped their knees together. "I imagine so," he said. "With very little effort, too."

Arthur turned his face away a little to hide his smile. "This is it," he announced as the cab began to slow, and Gwaine blew a low whistle.

"Bloody hell. Nice place, mate."

"Oh. Yeah, thanks," Arthur said, opening the main door for Gwaine. "I'm on the first floor."

"Right you are."

Gwaine followed Arthur up the stairs, a pleasantly distracting warm presence at his back. Arthur got the door open and they half-stumbled through, and Arthur turned to ask Gwaine if he wanted a drink and immediately found himself pulled into a kiss instead. Gwaine's hands came up instantly, cupping the back of his neck and sliding into his hair, pulling him closer and deepening their kiss. Urgency flashed through Arthur, echoed back to him in the way Gwaine shoved at Arthur's coat, dragging it from his shoulders and pushing it away.

"Fuck, you are so hot," Gwaine said, leaning into Arthur so they were pressed together as tight as they could get. 

Arthur couldn't help laughing at the compliment, tugging on the ends of Gwaine's hair and wondering whether the man had ever seen a mirror. Gwaine's fingers were quick and agile, sneaking in under the sides of Arthur's shirt, brushing just softly enough to make Arthur shiver against him. Arthur had meant to give Gwaine a drink, offer to take his jacket, and a wealth of other little gestures to make himself seem at least vaguely smooth. 

Clearly smooth wasn't on the cards though, and Arthur found himself surprisingly content with that. Content just to kiss Gwaine and pull him along, clumsy and stumbling towards the bedroom. He'd pushed Gwaine's jacket off his shoulders already and was making a determined effort to strip him of the dark blue t-shirt he wore when Gwaine stumbled and said, "That's – whoa, nice kitchen."

"Mmm? Yeah, came with the flat."

Gwaine actually came to a stop, half turning in Arthur's arms to stare into the kitchen. "Jesus, it's lovely."

"Did you come here to talk about my kitchen?" Arthur teased.

Gwaine laughed and bussed a kiss along Arthur's jaw. "No, I did not. You got a bedroom in this palace, princess?"

"Cute," Arthur said. "Very cute. This way." And he turned away before temptation lead him to strip Gwaine bare right where they stood.

In the bedroom Arthur turned to slap the lights on, and by the time he turned back Gwaine was already shedding his clothes, utterly without even a glimmer of shyness. And no wonder, Arthur thought. God, the man had absolutely nothing to be shy about. The light glinted off a necklace he wore, drawing Arthur's eyes down the length of his body, his voice dying in his throat. Gwaine was _gorgeous_ and Arthur found himself walking forward as though he was being reeled in. Gwaine was fucking _sculpted_ , muscles clearly cut and defined in his stomach and chest. Arthur took in the dark shapes of a few tattoos and – Jesus have mercy – the flash of a little silver ring through Gwaine's right nipple. 

Silence spooled out between them for a moment before Gwaine lifted his chin in challenge and tugged on the bottom of Arthur's shirt. The moment fractured and they were all over each other again, trading kisses in between fumbling out of their clothes. Gwaine sat down heavily on the edge of the bed, legs wide around the heavy line of his cock. Arthur went to his knees without a second thought, a plan crystallising instantly in his mind. Gwaine distracted him momentarily, pushing his hand through Arthur's hair and bending forward to kiss him. Arthur ran his hands up Gwaine's thighs, losing himself in it for a moment before he pulled away. 

Gwaine groaned and squeezed Arthur's shoulder, trying to draw him back. He soon gave up on that when Arthur started rooting through his bedside drawer. He tossed a condom to Gwaine and really, he'd have to take care of that himself, because Arthur needed to know more about that nipple ring. He'd never been with someone who'd had anything more adventurous than their ears pierced before, and he lifted his thumb to brush over the metal, finding it skin-warm and smooth.

Gwaine made a noise Arthur could only describe as a purr and pressed his hand over Arthur's. Arthur grinned up at him, feeling decidedly smug.

"You like?"

"God, yeah. Fuck. Come here," he said, and slid his hand around the back of Arthur's skull, drawing him into another kiss, this one messy and a little ragged, the way he bit at Arthur's mouth more urgent than playful now. 

"Mmm – come on, condom, now," Arthur instructed, watching intently as Gwaine tore the pack open with his teeth, took a couple of deep breaths before rolling it on. His hands were sure and dextrous and when he was done Arthur couldn't help himself, picked up one of Gwaine's hands and brought it to his mouth, sucking on his fingertips for a second.

Gwaine laughed shakily and rubbed his hand over his face for a second before looking at Arthur, his eyes dark above his fingers. Arthur's hands found Gwaine's thighs again, fingers pressing in harder this time to feel the firmness of his muscles, rapidly going taut under his touch. Gwaine touched his fingers to Arthur's jaw, his cheek, the spot behind his ear that always made him want to melt. And just how did he know about that spot already, anyway?

After the first less-than-pleasant taste of the latex Arthur found a rhythm that suited him, the kind of slow, shallow bobbing he felt he could keep up for _ages_. He worked one hand in a tight twist around the base of Gwaine's cock and breathed hard and hot around him. 

"Oh, that's good," Gwaine murmured, his hand soft in Arthur's hair, not trying to guide him but just feeling, tangling a few locks around his fingers. His fingertips drifted to dot over Arthur's nape, his temple, even tracing the stretched curve of his lips. 

Arthur knew he wasn't a slouch when it came to the art of giving a blowjob, but Gwaine's obvious gratification was heady anyway. There was something really, really satisfying about turning someone as motor-mouthed as Gwaine completely non-verbal. Arthur lifted his head, deliberately meeting Gwaine's eye. His mouth felt wet and swollen, his fingers rapidly coating with his own spit. Gwaine leaned back on his free hand, his tongue just visible at the corner of his lips as he watched Arthur from dark, hooded eyes. Arthur curled one hand against Gwaine's thigh, used the other to cup his balls, feel their weight and roll them softly between his fingers. A very soft tug was enough for Gwaine to catch hold of the back of Arthur's head again, pulling him back in. 

Arthur went willingly, sucking harder this time, taking Gwaine deeper, making it wet. It had been a while sure, but Arthur had always liked this, always liked the combination of power and submission. The slow roll of Gwaine's hips only played into that and Arthur reached down to give himself a measured, squeezing stroke.

"Ah now that," Gwaine said, his breath catching in his throat. "That is beautiful."

Arthur groaned, squeezing his cock harder and trying to control his breath enough to take Gwaine deep, deeper. Gwaine pressed the back of his fist to his mouth, staring down at Arthur, his breath hitching in time with the careful forward roll of his hips. Arthur kept at it, feeling all the more turned on by the wet, sloppy noises it made until Gwaine – oh god – stiffened under Arthur's hands and in his mouth, his body bowing over Arthur's in a tight curl as he filled the inside of the condom.

Arthur pulled back, resting his head against Gwaine's thigh for a moment. He tried to discreetly wipe at his wet lips but before he got the chance Gwaine pulled him up into a kiss that was messy and clumsy. Gwaine's hands shook a little as he removed the condom and tied it off, Arthur pointing him towards the bin. 

In an instant he was back, pulling Arthur up onto the bed and spreading him out, covering Arthur with the warm weight of his body.

"What do you want?" he asked, fingers framing Arthur's jaw to tilt his face upwards and kiss him again, each one flavoured with appreciation. "Arthur, what do you want?"

Arthur had been noticing Gwaine's hands all night, how they were restless and clever whether they were twirling an empty glass, engaging in a futile arm-wrestling match with Percy, or just reaching out to tuck Arthur's hair behind his ear. Arthur thought all it would take would be some reasonable encouragement.

The bedside drawer was still open and it only took a minimum of scrambling to come up with a tube of lubricant. Gwaine's eyes lit up but he just shifted to kneel between Arthur's thighs, watching him intently.

"I feel like I'm doing a lot of the work this evening," Arthur teased, not really meaning it. There was something appealing about slicking his fingers up while Gwaine watched, reaching down to skirt the rim of his hole and rubbing a few times before pushing carefully inside.

For a moment, Gwaine sat back on his heels, just staring. "Christ, you are fucking shameless. I love it," he groaned, squeezing Arthur's thigh.

"Are you planning on getting involved at all?" Arthur asked.

"Not sure," Gwaine said. "You're quite the sight."

Arthur laughed breathlessly, stretching his body out. If Gwaine wanted a show...

Gratifyingly quickly, Gwaine said, "God, enough," and pushed Arthur's hand away, quickly replacing it with his own.

"Ah, _fuck_!" Arthur groaned, his hips lifting off the bed. Gwaine wasted no time getting his fingers in Arthur, a hand on his hip guiding him to move in time with Gwaine's thrusts. "Fuck, that's good."

"God," Gwaine muttered, nosing at the side of Arthur's face before moving in for a kiss. "Don't know that I'll get it up again in time to fuck you. Bloody gin."

He sounded genuinely regretful, as though Arthur could possibly have a single complaint right now. The slow burning satisfaction of pleasuring Gwaine had been overcome by this, this insistent _push-push-push_ of bliss forcing itself into him.

"I'll live," he informed Gwaine, who buried his face in Arthur's stomach and laughed in soft puffs against his skin. Laughter turned into kisses and kisses trailed downwards, turning into bites as they neared the cut of his hip. At a particularly good push of Gwaine's fingers Arthur reached down and grabbed his wrist, forcing him to stay deep.

"That, that, just – stay there, oh _fuck_."

Gwaine only had to shift a little until he was pushing insistently at Arthur's prostate, almost too much before he lightened it into a slow, careful touch, his eyes dark as they took in every little detail of Arthur's reaction. It was really unexpectedly hot to be watched like that and Arthur spread his legs wider, lifted his chin to draw Gwaine into another kiss. It was teasing this time, like Gwaine had remembered Arthur's smug insistence on taking him to pieces, and intended to retaliate in kind.

"God, I – can I come on you?" Arthur asked when he was close.

"Yes – Jesus Christ, here." Gwaine moved hastily, working his fingers free and sprawling on his back next to Arthur, pushing his shoulders back into the bed. The movement expanded his chest and gave Arthur the most perfect canvas he'd ever imagined. 

Arthur scrambled to straddle Gwaine's hips and stroked himself in long, fast movements, his eyes flickering back and forth, trying to take in every bit of Gwaine's fucking gorgeous body, not to mention the open anticipation on his face. His come hit Gwaine's stomach, his chest. Gwaine slicked his fingers through the mess and tweaked Arthur's nipple. A flare of almost-pain made him shudder all over again, a string of pleas and curses and embarrassingly breathy attempts at Gwaine's name spilling from his mouth. Spent, he flopped onto his side next to Gwaine, their bodies overlapping here and there. 

"God, there's something about a posh lad with a dirty mouth," Gwaine said, his voice not entirely steady.

"Wanker," Arthur huffed out, equally breathless.

Gwaine gave an exaggerated moan and groped himself obscenely. "Mmm. Don't stop."

Arthur laughed and pressed his palm to Gwaine's face, shoving him away gently. "Pillock."

Gwaine settled down into the sheets with a satisfied sigh and _actual silence_ reigned for a couple of minutes until, "God, that mouth though, Arthur. You could be a porn star."

As dryly as he could after coming so hard he went briefly cross-eyed, Arthur said, "Thanks. I think?"

"Hey, now. Some of my best friends are porn stars."

Arthur laughed again, breathlessness turned to something hot inside his chest. "I could believe that, to be honest."

Gwaine turned onto his side and traced the line of Arthur's throat with a single finger.

"What?" Arthur asked.

"Nothin'," Gwaine said with a shrug, mapping the path with his lips this time.

**

Arthur woke with a luxuriant stretch and a long yawn. _God_ , but he was knackered.

After the first round they'd ended up falling asleep on the sofa in front of a terrible late night move. When they woke only a few hours later, Arthur temporarily took leave of his senses and let Gwaine bend him over his own dining table and finger him until he was nearly crying. Again. Afterwards, Arthur had nudged Gwaine up to sit on the edge of the table, stood between his splayed legs and stroked him off in between long, slow kisses, while the first light of day just began peeking around the edges of the blinds.

_Best one night stand ever_ , Arthur told himself. He rolled onto his back and realised a few things at the same time: Gwaine was gone, the radio was playing, and he could smell something cooking. Frowning, Arthur rolled out of bed and pulled on a pair of jogging bottoms. He'd never known a one night stand to take it upon themselves to bloody _cook_. And clearly go through his stuff. Well, his food, anyway.

He found Gwaine in the kitchen, his back to Arthur, fiddling with the contents of a pan. He was dressed only in the jeans he'd been wearing last night, his back tapering down to his lean waist, his hair curling over his nape. Arthur waited a moment to appreciate the view and then cleared his throat. 

"What're you cooking?" he asked, and Gwaine jumped visibly, turning around.

"Hey. Uh. Omelette. D'you mind?"

"Would it matter if I did?"

Gwaine grinned. "Not especially."

Arthur bit his lip on a smile and crossed the room to turn Gwaine around and kiss him.

"Mmm – hey. Arthur, it'll burn."

"Don't care," Arthur assured him. Gwaine rumbled a protest but Arthur sucked on his lower lip, bit it softly, and Gwaine's resolve seemed to crumble. Eventually though, he pushed Arthur away and turned back to the oven.

"Ah, bollocks," he muttered. Arthur looked over his shoulder at the contents of the pan, which looked both slightly burnt and unappealingly grey.

"Delicious," Arthur lied, sarcasm dripping heavily from the word.

Gwaine just huffed.

"Ah well," Arthur said, plucking the spatula from Gwaine's hand and poking at the mess in the pan. "At least you shag better than you cook."

Arthur didn't realise until much later that there was a brief look of something honestly annoyed on Gwaine's face before he said, "Well I'd be forced to blame your inferior ingredients, along with your very attractive and distracting mouth."

"An omelette's an omelette," Arthur said plainly. "Ingredients nothing. You look like the type who could burn water, anyway."

" _Excuse_ me?"

"Hey, listen, your skills lie in a different direction, it's nothing to be ashamed of."

"Right. Okay. That's it. Put some clothes on, we're going to mine and I'll cook it again with the proper stuff. Then we'll see."

And that was...okay, a bit weird. But intriguing. "See what? That it's really easy to wound your pride? Because I'm seeing that already, to be honest," Arthur said.

" _Clothes_ , smartarse. Right now. Incidentally, it's a fucking crime to have a kitchen like this and stock it with crap battery hen eggs and – _god_ – pre-grated cheese, you animal."

"You are...so strange," Arthur said, but Gwaine was already pulling him out of his seat and pushing him towards the bedroom.

**

Gwaine's flat was only a single bus ride away, Arthur noted with interest. For future reference and all that. The flat was above a corner shop and Gwaine led Arthur up a narrow staircase, past a little hallway overflowing with tents and sleeping bags, a camping stove and what looked very much like a unicycle. He didn't have much time to look before Gwaine opened another door and showed Arthur into a small living room. The television was on mute and the sofa was piled with blankets, a head of tangled blonde hair poking from one end.

Gwaine lifted a finger to his lips and set his keys down gently, shutting the door softly behind himself. Feeling a little awkward, Arthur waited quietly while Gwaine crossed over to the sofa and crouched down next to it.

"Hey," he whispered. "Hey, wake up a minute, love."

There was a groan and a soft grumble that might have had an enquiring tone to it.

"Making Arthur an omelette if you want one," Gwaine said.

The mass of blonde hair shifted in a way that might have been someone shaking their head.

"Alright," Gwaine said, patting the blankets apparently at random. "We'll be in the kitchen."

"And that was?" Arthur asked, as Gwaine shut the kitchen door behind them. 

"Elena," Gwaine told him. "Flatmate. Well, best mate, really."

"And you always make your best mate sleep on the sofa?"

"No, she has a room and everything," Gwaine said smoothly. "Nah, she gets insomnia. 4a.m. repeats of Jeremy Kyle usually send her off."

"Christ," Arthur muttered. "No wonder she didn't sound very happy. "

"Yeah," Gwaine said, sounding fond. "Not a morning person, my girl. Alright! Sit! Tea? Coffee? Juice?"

"Coffee would be good."

The kitchen was small and poky, dominated by a slightly battered looking square table where Arthur sat on a wobbly stool while Gwaine made him a coffee.

"Right, then. One omelette coming right up," Gwaine said cheerily. "Not got any allergies, have you?"

"Nope," Arthur said. "Come on, then. Wow me."

With a tut presumably directed at Arthur's attitude, Gwaine started moving around the kitchen, grabbing ingredients, a pan, cutlery, a bowl. Arthur wouldn't have thought the kitchen – postage stamp sized, which matched what Arthur had seen of the rest of the flat – could contain so much stuff. As he moved, Gwaine turned on the radio with a nudge. A couple of songs were enough for Arthur to realise it was the same 60s station that was invariably playing at Merlin and Freya's place. No wonder they got along so well.

"Mushrooms," Gwaine said, pulling Arthur from his thoughts. "Yay or nay?"

Arthur shrugged. "They're okay."

"And peppers?"

"Sure."

Before Arthur could get too caught up in the nimble way Gwaine was chopping the veg, and the thoughts those clever fingers now put into his head, his phone rang. With a glance at the screen, Arthur muttered _bugger_ before answering, earning himself a questioning look from Gwaine.

"Hello, Merlin."

"Oh, don't _hello Merlin_ me! Let me in, you dick!"

"Let you in where?"

"Oh, very funny. Let! Me! In!" Merlin insisted, punctuated by a loud ringing noise in the background. "Stop pretending you can't hear your doorbell."

"Sorry, mate. Not at home."

"What? Where are you, then?"

Arthur knew instantly that he'd paused a fraction of a second too long before he said, "Nowhere special."

"Oh my god! Freya was right! You went home with Gwaine, didn't you? Fuck, I knew I shouldn't have got so drunk."

"Angling for an invite to join us, Merlin? And as a matter of fact, he came home with me."

"And now you are...?"

_Cornered_ , Arthur thought. "At his place," he admitted, lowering his voice a little. "He's making me an omelette."

Merlin groaned. "Oh, you lucky sod. Alright, well. Have fun. Don't kill each other."

Before Arthur could question that Merlin was gone. Arthur tucked his phone away just as Gwaine turned and said, "There. Duck egg omelette with mushrooms and red peppers. Eat that and tell me 'an omelette's an omelette'."

The plate he set in front of Arthur was nothing short of beautiful. The omelette looked fluffy, a creamy yellow colour speckled with the hints of peppers and mushrooms inside. It was neat too, folded in on itself so none of the filling escaped, looking nothing like the scrambled egg messes that were Arthur's default food as a student.

"That looks – "

"A million times better than anything you could knock up with generic supermarket eggs? I know," Gwaine said smugly, setting down a plate for himself, as well as a rack of toast. 

Arthur tucked in and the first mouthful was so full of flavour that he almost moaned. If he'd bothered to think about it, he would always have thought of omelettes as a fairly dull, functional kind of food, but this... It was delicious.

Arthur took a sip of his coffee to stop himself from scoffing the whole plateful in a few bites. "That's – "

"Good?" Gwaine asked, looking hopeful.

"Amazing," Arthur admitted and Gwaine grinned hugely.

They ate in a comfortable, companionable silence until the mysterious Elena stumbled in with a blanket around her shoulders and helped herself to the last of the toast.

**

Arthur picked up his phone and absently scrolled down to the _G_ s, like he'd been doing at least three times a day since Gwaine had tapped his number into Arthur's phone and sent him on his way with another of those 'I'm brilliant at anything vaguely sexual, here, let me just turn your legs to jelly' kind of kisses. It _had_ been three days, Arthur reminded himself as his fingers hovered over the call button. Three days was totally respectable and not even a bit desperate.

He dialled only to hear a robot inform him that the mobile he was calling was switched off and inviting him to leave a message. Sod that. Frustrated, Arthur turned back to his court papers for the coming days – scores of missing police safeguarding checks, he noted. He was going to have to shout at somebody again. Before he could get too involved there was an insistent knocking at his door.

Grumbling a little, Arthur pushed back from the table. He was seriously going to have to have words with the woman upstairs who kept leaving the door to the whole block open. Arthur much preferred the option of ignoring the intercom. 

When he swung the door open though, all thoughts of ignoring anything fled his mind.

Gwaine looked, if possible, even fitter than Arthur remembered. 

"Er. Hello," Arthur ventured, when Gwaine didn't seem inclined to speak first.

"Hi. I was passing. Well, sort of. Thought I'd drop by."

"So you gave me your number..."

"For the look of the thing, really. It's switched off most of the time anyway. Work."

"Yeah, I know," Arthur said without thinking about it.

Gwaine smiled slyly. "You called, then?"

"Might've done. So..."

"So?"

"You're – here."

"Right," Gwaine said, like he'd forgotten. He leaned against the doorframe and jammed his hands into his pockets. "So here's the thing. I pretty much can't stop thinking about you. At all."

"Oh." Arthur tightened his grip on the door handle. Oh god. Maybe Merlin was right. Maybe Arthur was just doomed to be rubbish at this forever. "You want to do something about that?"

Gwaine nodded, shifting on his feet a little. "I was thinking dinner. Maybe a movie. Bowling. Laser-tag. Go-karting. Join a darts league."

"I can't play darts."

"Me neither, we'll have a blast. Maybe get in some hot air ballooning, too."

"That sounds like a lot."

"Yeah," Gwaine agreed with a little nod. "I think getting you out of my system's going to be an uphill struggle."

Looking back, Arthur would have to admit he was buggered from the start, already hoping in that moment that Gwaine never succeeded in getting Arthur out of his system.

"Alright, then," he said. "We should probably work on that. Coffee?"

Gwaine grinned broadly and pushed himself away from the doorframe, suddenly much closer. "Love to."

Inside, he looked around the place as they walked and Arthur asked, "What? Does it look different with your clothes on?"

"More like I'm in a fit state to notice now _you're_ fully clothed," Gwaine shot back and Arthur laughed, pushing his laptop closed as they passed.

"Milk? Sugar?"

"No, ta," Gwaine said, and Arthur poured him a coffee from the pot. "Did I interrupt you working?"

"Yes, but that's okay. It can wait."

"What do you do, anyway?"

"I'm a solicitor," Arthur told him. 

"Oh no, let me guess," Gwaine said, looking around at the flat. "Corporate law."

"Wrong and wrong," Arthur said a bit smugly. "Family law, actually."

Gwaine looked a little surprised at that, but then so did most people. "Believe me," Arthur told him, "it wasn't what my father expected when he funded my law degree either. But it's good. Sometimes I get to know a kid's happy or safe because of something I did."

"Hmm. I'm rapidly reassessing my playboy image of you. You're basically a do-gooder, aren't you?"

"It's been said. What about you?"

Gwaine's eyes looked mischievous over the top of his coffee cup and he said, "I'm a chef."

Arthur choked on his coffee. "No. Seriously? So that – what I said about you looking like the type to burn water?"

"Oh yeah." Gwaine laughed and nudged his shoulder against Arthur's. "You threw down a gauntlet right there. Professional integrity and all. I probably should have mentioned that."

"It might have explained your very aggressive insistence on the omelette," Arthur agreed.

Gwaine's smile was the slow-growing, warm kind and _god_ , he was bloody gorgeous. Arthur couldn't stop himself remembering how Gwaine had looked naked. The image just would not leave his head. It made focusing tricky to say the least.

"I think I'm going to enjoy keeping you on your toes," Gwaine said, resting his hip against the counter and turning the full wattage of that smile on Arthur. 

"Until you get me out of your system," Arthur reminded him.

"Right," Gwaine nodded, and he took another sip of coffee, all but purring in contentment, the bastard. 

"We should sit down," Arthur offered. "Football's on, if you fancy?"

"Yeah," Gwaine agreed. "Sounds good. Lead the way."

"Who're you backing?" Arthur asked, when they were settled side-by-side in front of the television.

Gwaine glanced at the screen. "City," he decided, so Arthur began extolling Liverpool's virtues just to be contrary. In reality, Arthur didn't think either of them gave a fuck about the football. Gwaine moved restlessly on the sofa next to Arthur, leaning forward to pick up his coffee cup, taking a little sip, setting it back again. They both took a breath to speak at the same moment, and Arthur almost laughed at the state of them. 

_Too old for this nonsense_ , Arthur told himself and half turned in his seat, pulling Gwaine in to kiss him. He couldn't miss the relieved noise Gwaine made in the back of his throat. Gwaine's fingers were surprisingly cool on the side of Arthur's throat until they were both very warm, the air between them heated and heavy with promise. Arthur didn't think he'd spent this long just kissing someone since he was a teenager. Gwaine kissed the same way he fucked, all languid, careless grace until it was suddenly urgent and hungry. He was impulsive and changeable, finding countless clever ways to drive Arthur mad.

"This wasn't – " Gwaine said against Arthur's lips. "I didn't come here for this. I want to do all that stuff – well, maybe not the darts or the hot air ballooning – "

"I was looking forward to the darts," Arthur joked.

"Okay, fuck it, we'll keep that on the list. I just – Christ, you are so sexy."

Arthur dragged his lips across Gwaine's jaw and said, "We can do that. We can – fuck, we can go to a safari park, if you want, whatever. But...does that mean we have to be coy? I mean I've already had your dick in my mouth."

Gwaine groaned and laughed and caught Arthur's face between his hands, kissing him in a flurry of nips and licks. "You are – man after my own heart, seriously. And yes, you have, haven't you? I've thought of little but returning the favour all week, you know."

Arthur laughed and pulled Gwaine to his feet, dragging him along towards the bedroom, football and coffee and anything that wasn't each other forgotten in an instant.


End file.
